The Wild West and Sex Slavery Ch. 03

"Wow, what beautiful cock and balls," Lena giggled out. "Big and thick enough but not too big. A girl doesn't want to be punched or smothered. Lovely large, plump, testes. I do not know why some men think women want to be assaulted by something suitable for knocking down castle gates. I just do not know how your penis could be any better.

"It could glow in the dark," Killer joked.

"I have some makeup that could do that, but lighting does not matter. I do not have any eyes where I want that beautiful thing, Lena said.

"I am sure that you are cooler without hair on the balls. Somehow, I no longer care about the heat, well, not the temperature. But I am sure you could use some liquid cooling where it would do the most good." Lena soon had her tongue over every part of Killer's package, but she carefully monitored his state of arousal. She knew just where she wanted his cock and semen.

Killer had felt sexually drained when he'd come into the Club. He had enjoyed Eva a dozen times in the days leading up to the duel. All that was forgotten, though, as Lena swished her tongue around the cap of his penis while gently massaging his testes. After she retreated from his cock and testicles to lie on a waiting couch and spread her legs in the classic ladylike manner, Killer immediately plunged his member into Lena's neat, hairless pussy as though he'd not had sex for a year.

If their first sex was not romance-novel romantic, it was time efficient.

Lena, having fantasized about Killer since May and about Angela being taken by a gang for nine hours, did not need a long period of stimulation. She got it anyway. Her first orgasm seemed to spread from her G-spot through her clitoris to her nipples and toes. "God, I needed that," Lena said without believing in God.

Killer maintained his pace after Lena had already had two orgasms. Lena felt herself building to a third climax as Killer began pushing in and out more strongly, finally pushing hard against Lena's soft bumper pads as his cock blasted into her, and Lena had her third and most satisfying orgasm of the night.

Lena thought, you can be romantic without French kissing, or at least you can climax like there was no tomorrow, as she uncurled her toes and began to breathe normally.

People in the Club generally do not speak about what they do in the outside world. Lena and Killer, though, saw no point in pretending they did not know each other outside the Club. Lena wanted to know more about Killer and asked questions as they rested.

"When I am not working for Wallace Import and Supply or for the Free States doing special operations, I live on a dude ranch in Wyoming. I got my own small house on the ranch. The management is happy to have me there, just being another man on the property who knows how to do some things," Killer explained.

"Do you have a couple of female indentured servants who could not pay their debts at your house to cater to your every desire when you are back?"

"No, such servants are expensive, and I wouldn't want one anyway. I do my own housekeeping when I am home, and I can travel to Denver or Boulder in the Pacific and Mountain States if I want a little female company. Of course, there are the boats if I just want to get my rocks off. The closest one of them to the ranch is on the Upper Missouri near Sioux City, but I don't much like the boats either. It don't seem sporting shooting ducks in a barrel. Now I don't think I will ever go to the boats again."

"You are a loyal citizen of the Free American States under God, but you do not seem to fit in there well. Do you even believe in God?" Lena asked and thought of Faust.

"I believe I don't know about God one way or the other, and no one asks me to go to church when I'm on the ranch. I like Wyoming, but not necessarily the people living there. I wasn't too thrilled about the national divorce when it happened, and I'm even less thrilled now. All the worst features of the various ways of thinking got worse and worse. I don't get to the Social Democratic States of America much, but it sounds like they went off the deep end. The folks in the Pacific and Mountain States of America I see when I go there seem to live in Disneyland 24-7. On the other hand, the less I have to do with the fools, lying preachers and politicians in the Free States, the better. The mountains, the trees, the rivers, the bears and the buffalo don't give me no shit, so I spend my time with them."

"You think it is your duty to preserve systems you do not like?"

"Lena, I got one thing in common with the lying preachers. Like the Free State preachers who run the goddamn country with the cynical businessmen and sheriffs, I don't like to hear women talk much. But I don't like to hear anyone talk much. Most of all, I don't like to hear myself talk. By the way, thinking is also highly overrated."

They headed for the showers that had been installed in the Club ten years before. Lena became fascinated with Killer's cock again during the shower and insisted he take her again. Killer, though, insisted, "Let me show you what I prefer to use my mouth for."

With Lena standing, Killer kneeled in front of her with water running down his back and his tongue running all over Lena's discrete inner lips and trigger. Lena would have fallen as she climaxed and lost track of the need to stand in the shower, except Killer caught her as she fell.

Killer held her up and pushed his penis into her vagina, which had only just begun to calm down. A U-turn occurred within Lena. Ten minutes later, they were panting again and rinsing off so they could dress for going home.

Killer flew back to Cheyanne the following Monday.

Angela thought about what she wanted to write about her participation in the Winnetou paintball gun duels.

Lena knew there were important stories to write about what life was like in the FASUG that did not have to do with the silly paintball gun spectacles. She also knew that the beautiful but aging blond falling for the tall, dark, gruff cowboy was about the most well-worn theme imaginable. She was both amused and disgusted with herself for taking the path so well-traveled.